Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1887-02-25
CHAPTER VII.
now TIE onNNcE oAME.


There was u small inn, called the Dog
and Pheasant between the park and the
mill Sometimes. when any visitors
were at the hail. the servants who could
not be accommodated in the house were
sent to the Dog and Pheasant. 1t was q
tidy, respectable, old fashioned inn, low,
yellow washed. with russell tile roof. and
a vine, Il Black Marlborough, trained on
n trelis over the roof, where it ripcncd
well in warm summers. The host had
been Il butler to the old squire before the
property was sold to the successful Ok
ford street tradcsman. However much
the host might turn up his lip of scorn in
the privacy of his own room with his
wife over these parvenus, he was most
urbane and obsequious to them in public,
for Mr. Tottenham was his landlord, and
the hall brought a good deal of custom
to the Dog and Pheasant
Throughout the ncighborhood of Lon
don the old families have well nigh dis
appeared. They have migrated, and sold
their estates and mansions to wealthy
ira lCsmen. who live in the old seats in
far grauder style than did the plain Coun-
try squires.
Ringwood had belonged to the family
of RingWOod for three hundred years,
then came spcndthrift, then rash
speculation bad times, finally breakup.
Squire RingwOOd was obliged to sell his
ancestral estate and manor house, and it
was bought by the Tottenhams of the
firm OF Tottcnham s. Sons, Oxford street
One day there arrived at the Dog and
Pheasant a gentleman of engaging eX-
terror and manners. He wore a black
frock coat that fitted him admirably,
lavender pants, and kid gloves. Il crimson
ribbon round his throat, "a Glorie de
Dion rose in his buttonhole. His name
he showed his cards-Mr. Algernon
Beaufort. He had delicate complexion
and Il slight cough. He came into the
country because he had been ordered
country air, and to Ringwood because
Ringwood was prescribed as specially
sal lbrious.
He strollcd about tho neighborhood for
day or two, and found it dull-an end
less tract of London clay, broken by old
tile pits and puddles. In time one may
have TOO much of a good thing; it takes
very little time to have enough Of Lon
don clay.
Mr. Beaufort. standing in the bar,
drawing ON his gloves, with his elegant
lavender legs wide apart, asked if il were
permissible for strangers to stroll in the
park The host of the inn hesitated. 1t
was not favor generally accorded, but
if the gentleman would not mind taking
a message Of thanks from him to the
keeper, whose lodge was i'm rhe park. for
a brace Of rabbits he had sent his mis-
sus, it might serve as an excuse. Then
MI Beaufort could look about him, and
see the trees, and the deer, and the lake:
and the keeper might. perhaps, take him
over the warren.
Mr.. Beaufort was much obliged. His
Gloire de Dion was faded, SO he ven
turcd to beg China rose of the land
lady, which suited his complexion better
even than the Glorie de Dion, assumed
his highly polished hat, curled up at the
side. took his cane lighted a cigar, and
sailed forth. He entered the side gate
of the main entrance, sauntered about
the well wooded grounds, came to the
keepers lodge, delivered his message,
and asked to be allowed TO sit down and
drink glass of water. His appearance,
his complexion. his address, struck Mrs
Redfrrn as aristOcratc She made him
very welcome. entered into conversation
with him. assured him that her marriage
| had been a come down in life, and that,
/ though she lived under n cottage roof,
/ she knew what good society was having
! lived in barOuial halls. This was n little
| bit of an oXaggeratiOn, but it did not
matter. Baronial halls-eVen when con-
vertcd by an infirmity of the speakers,
into 'alls-oounds we'll
Mr.. Beaufort assured the lady that he
quite believed il. Something in her
speech and bearing struck him as out Of
the common when he first saw her. Then
she told him how she had acquired her
finished address and polite bearing. She
had been lady's maid to the Misses
TOttenham, of the great house, one of
whom was now married The other was
still single but said TO be engaged. 1t
was II sad blow, she said to old Mr. Tot
tenham that his eldest son had married
an actress; he was not allowed to remain
in the firm. He was given an annuity,
and did not come to Ringwood
"And this, SIR she said, as Trip ap-
peared, this, sir, is my daughter"
"Your sister, surely" exclaimed Mr..
Beaufort starting to his feet and bow
ing gracefully, with wave of his nat,
my daughter, an only child, sir, aged
eighteen.
"Impossiblc madame
Pray be seated" urged the fattered
Mrs. Redfern.
IF might offer you some of our mod
est ale and humble cake, sir or UMPIRE
tentious biscuits-'
''With the highest pleasure. My name
i ought to have introduced myself-is
Beaufort he put "A card on the table.
"You may chance to know the name; if
you study the peerage, you will have OBJ
served that there is n duke Of my name. "
Mrs. Rcdfern was giddy with excite
ment She whispered to her daughter.
"Lema put on your myrtle green with
coffee trimmings; in it you look beauti-
fullest" Then she FASTENED to produce
cake, biscuits, glasses, and Jug of ale
and place them on the little table under
the balcony of the picturesque cottage.
After pause and the eating Of a bis
cult, Mr.. Beaufort said:
$50 you. my dear madame, were lady'i